The Perfect Day
by Sunshine170
Summary: She remembers everything, almost like she'd lived that moment a million times over. Like she was stuck in some kind of time loop


Breathe in, breath out…

His hands digging into her hip, holding on tight, the pressure of his finger pads on her skin, heavy, unrelenting.

Even asleep, he holds on. His head, sideways resting in the nook of her neck, one leg nestled between hers. It's an instinct Olivia understands. It's his way of making sure she'll be there in the morning. That he won't wake up and find himself in a world without her.

Olivia counts, counts the number of blinds on the windows, counts her breaths, counts everything she can to distract herself, to keep herself from glancing at the clock, to ignore the slowly creeping sunlight outside.

If she ignores it, maybe this day will never begin.

Usually she'd be up by now, working her way through a fresh cup of coffee, enjoying a brief forty minutes to herself before the other two residents of her household woke up and the inevitable routine of the day began It's the only real spell of solitude she gets nowadays, a fact she can't bring herself to resent.

She's known enough loneliness for a lifetime… or two.

Today she simply stays in bed, wallowing in the warmth that was partly from the sheets and partly Peter's arm around her. She closes her hand over his, clasping his fingers loosely between hers. The early morning sun feels nearly perfect on her skin, pouring in from the crevices in the closed blinds.

It's going to be a beautiful day, she thinks. The swan song of a New England summer before the leaves changed and fall set in. The kind of day that drew the crowds into the city, a day for making plans outdoors.

Déjà vu.

Last year, this day had been beautiful too. Last year this day, she had woken up and felt so much peace, a strange contentment with everything.

It had been her first day off in nearly weeks and she'd been determined to get the most out of it. No distractions, no work…nothing but time with her family.

She can still remember the perfection of that afternoon, the tickling sensation of the grass beneath her feet as she stretched out on the blanket with her book, the small weight of Peter's head resting on her back. The exact blue of the sky.

Her daughter blowing at dandelions in the distance…

She remembers everything, almost like she'd lived that moment a million times over. Like she was stuck in some kind of time loop.

The way Peter had turned to her and smiled, the radiant joy on his face. It's what she remembers more than anything.

Because it's been much too long since she's seen him smile like that, a year to be exact. A year in which she's seen him struggle with the fact that Walter was gone, a year in which she's seen him fight a doomed fight to bring him back, realizing he was holding onto something long gone, drowning in something she couldn't ever fully rescue him from, another wound that'll always be open.

It's taken so long to bring him out of it. To pull him back from the darkness and remind him that he still had her, that he still had Etta.

It's not that they've talked about today. Not that they can afford to really. Ordinary life has a way of pulling one in – routines, preschool car pools, playdates, and cases – there's not all that much time to mourn, to grieve, to remember.

But ever so there's that moment. That moment when she catches his smile droop and the emptiness set into his eyes as something inevitably strikes him. Blink and you miss it.

But she doesn't miss anything. Hasn't ever.

The loss hurts her too. Walter was the closest thing she's ever known to a father. That flawed, broken eccentric man who took so much from her, but also gave her so much more, gave her everything worth calling her own. But it's easy enough to ignore her pain. It doesn't matter.

What matters is helping Peter through it. To be whatever he needed her to be.

What matters is making sure he didn't get lost again in his own pain.

"Morning." A gruff voice sounds in her ear, and she shifts to see him then, looking at her from beneath half-lidded eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Somebody decided to sleep in." There's mild amusement in his voice.

"Its 7:15. " She says, unable to help the smile at his comment.

"Precisely." He mumbles, pulling her in closer, tighter, his chin nuzzling her cheek. "What are you still doing in bed?"

Olivia shrugs. It's not that she needs to give him a reason. Not that he doesn't know already.

"Right." He mutters giving her a nod of realization. "It's okay you know." He chuckles dryly after a brief moment of silence. "I am not going to self-destruct into a ball of self-pity and despair if you don't stay by my side today."

"I wasn't…" She fumbles a protest before catching his teasing grin. Helpless to smile back, she looks at him knowingly.

"Can you blame me?"

"I guess not." He nods, a hand reaching up to entangle itself in her hair. He strokes gently with a natural rhythm. "But I am okay you know. It's not that bad, honest."

There's something like gratitude in his expression as he looks at her then. He knows the anxiousness she tries hard to conceal. His own grief has not made him impervious to what this year has cost her. He knows he's not been the easiest person to be around. Has let his anger and bafflement over his father's loss blind him to everything for too long. Has been far too absent from their lives than can be made allowances for.

And yet through it all, she's been there. Frustrated, angry, bewildered as he shut her out, obsessed with finding a recourse, she's still been there, unyielding in her resolve to hold onto him, reminding him in her signature no bullshit way of hers that he had a family who counted on him and he couldn't simply check out and leave them behind. Reminding him that the ones he loved were still there.

It's more compassion than he deserves, certainly more than he is capable of. And once again, he thanks whatever glitch in the universe made this amazing woman choose him.

He sees Olivia smile in relief at him in that beautiful way of hers, and Peter can literally sense her letting go of the breath she's been holding, the fear receding in her eyes ever so little.

"Good." She says shakily and he feels the small shudder pass through her spine. She kisses him them, soft lips moving against his, fierce and unapologetic, she holds nothing back.

"But if you need me, I am right here Peter." She whispers against his lips.

"I always need you 'Livia." He tells her, pulling her into him embrace further, almost till there's no space left between them, nose grazing against hers in an Eskimo kiss. "Always…"

* * *

They end up going to the park later. Because Etta wants to and because it simply is too beautiful an afternoon to be wasted indoors and because there's something poetic, almost healing, about repeating patterns.

And as Olivia watches Peter play with Etta, laughing and smiling as he spins her around, smiling like he was truly happy once again, she knows she won't have to fear this morning again the next year, or the one after that.

The sadness will always be there she realizes, and Walter… Walter will be missed always. But life will go on too, imperfect, sad, happy… life will go on and they'll do what they can to get by, and they'll find contentment again.

"You know what today was right?" He asks her that night, as they sit on the couch with Etta tucked in between the two of them, eyes glued to the screen where the eleventh screening of The Little Mermaid was in progress.

"What?"

He smiles at the alarm in her eyes, as he looks at him with guarded caution and laughs, pulling her in for a kiss.

"The perfect day."


End file.
